


Motels and Cigarettes

by pukingmama



Series: Motel Adventures [1]
Category: Mindhunter (TV 2017)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-23 05:31:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12499860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pukingmama/pseuds/pukingmama
Summary: This doesn't take place at a particular plot point. Just whenever really, no spoilers. I love these boys and had to put, even a small something, on the table.





	Motels and Cigarettes

**Author's Note:**

> This doesn't take place at a particular plot point. Just whenever really, no spoilers. I love these boys and had to put, even a small something, on the table.

The motel was pretty bleak, even by usual standards. The dim yellow light from the small lamp, set on a chipped bedside table, flickered weakly, threatening to give up entirely. Probably for the best. Too much illumination would expose the stained walls and bed covers.

Bill pushed his reading glasses higher up on his nose as he lay on one of the single beds in his boxers and vest, reviewing the photographs in the file, preparing himself for the next interview with one of their incarcerated sequence killers. He lit up another cigarette, holding it loosely between his lips as he scanned the photographs, carelessly shuffling through them. It had been a long day.

Holden exited the bathroom, a towel tied tightly around his waist. The shower steam chased after him as he made his way to the table to pick up his comb. The table wobbled as he touched it.

“The water's hot. It's a nice change. I might have used it all though, but you can give it a shot if you want.” Holden babbled.

Bill gave a non-committal grunt without looking up. He continued flicking through the pictures, turning them around in his hands.

“You seen this shit?” He asked, eyes on the photos, the cigarette bobbing in his mouth as he spoke. “Arms, legs and head missing. Just torsos propped up and dressed in lace panties. Reminds me of those mannequins in the lingerie departments Nancy goes to. Can't look at 'em the same way now.”

Holden nodded briskly, pursing his lips, but was unfazed. 

Sensing Bill's mild disgust, but unwilling to agree with it, he opened two bottles of beer, offering one with an outstretched arm. Bill looked up for the first time, his eyes flicking up and down Holden before settling on his face again. It was brief, but didn't go unnoticed. He grabbed the beer and took a long gulp from the bottle, all while maintaining eye-contact. Abruptly, he stubbed out the cigarette and looked back down at the files.

“All red lace too. You think that's significant? What a specific person wore?”

Holden frowned. “Let me see.” He reached out to take the photograph Bill was currently studying, gesturing for him to give him the rest of the pile. Without looking, he took the stack of them, accidentally brushing against a warm thigh. Bill flinched, but said nothing.

Holden considered for a minute. “Maybe the colour itself. It represents danger, right? Maybe he thought these were all dangerous women.”

“Also represents anger, blood, desire...” Bill offered and Holden twitched at the way he said the last word. “Could mean anything, could mean nothing.”

“Well, I suppose we'll have a better idea when we talk to him tomorrow.” Holden sighed, gathering up the photos and reports, acutely aware of Bill watching him. He looked up, but as he did, Bill averted his eyes, took another sip of his beer and grabbed his cigarette packet.

“Can't wait.” He said, picking up his lighter.

Holden studied him. The crease in his brow as he concentrated on lighting the end of his cigarette. The stubble on his jaw that he would shave in the morning, but that currently made a him look a little rougher, a little older. The blue eyes that shone brightly beneath lowered lashes in contrast to his tired face. There was something about the older man, something captivating.

Holden gingerly reached his hand out, unnoticed, and contemplated whether or not he should pull back and forget it. Perhaps that would be best. Perhaps.  
Instead, he watched his hand, mesmerized, as it slid up through the hair on Bills thigh and under the thin fabric of his underwear to the line where his leg met his crotch and stroked the crease with his thumb.

Bill froze, beer in hand. His lips slightly parted, cigarette on the verge of falling out, eyes flitting between Holden's trance-like expression and the hand disappearing under his clothes, as though trying to make the link between the two images. 

After what may have been minutes or possibly just seconds, Bill finally spoke. His voice slow and deep and controlled.

“What are you doing, Holden?” No anger, no disgust. Just a question, albeit a sceptical one. 

Holden finally registered the words, still transfixed. “No idea, but I feel like I should keep going.”

Bill let out a short bark of laughter, surprised at the honesty of the answer.

“Oh you do, do you?”

“Yes.” He said simply, but without bravado. As if it were a logical conclusion.

Bill was going to comment on Holden's assumptions, his audacity for voicing them and his stupidity for acting on them, but stopped short as Holden caressed the course hair between his legs before carefully taking his balls into his palm and tugging lightly at the skin between them.

Bill let out a staggered breath at the touch, his underwear beginning to tent around his growing erection. 

“I mean, if that's okay with you.” Holden added, looking up. An afterthought, but one with genuine concern.

“So, _now_ you ask?”

Holden held his stare. A few seconds past and when it suddenly dawned on Bill that his permission was still being sought, he chuckled lightly then sighed deeply, giving up the fight.

He put down the beer bottle and relaxed into the bed, folding his arms across his chest.“Well, you do _feel like _you should keep going. Don't know that I can protest against such a solid argument.”__

____

__

__

“I trust my instincts.”

“I'm sure you do.”

Holden's hands moved to the waistband of Bill's boxers and he pulled them down slowly, dragging them across his erection until the material couldn't hold the strain any more and his cock bounced back up, hovering obscenely in front of him. A droplet of pre-cum gathered in the slit and glistened under the lamp light. The sight made his cheeks burn.

Bill kicked off the underwear, removed his glasses, setting them aside and watched his partner silently, intently.

Before even touching him with his hands, Holden framed Bill's hips with his arms, lowered his mouth and suckled gently around the head of his cock. Bill inhaled sharply at the wet warmth and unexpected choice. He had, in all honesty, only been expecting a quick, thoughtless hand-job. Something to take the edge off the road and the sad motel rooms. 'Let him have his way, indulge him. Let him take control and feel good about himself for a bit'. This, was not that. He peered down.

Holden wrapped his thumb and forefinger around the the base of Bill's cock, his other fingers lightly grazing the hairy sack beneath. Little by little, he took more of the rigid flesh into his mouth, challenging himself on the length and girth, until it hit the back of his throat. The responding low groan from above made him shiver and his own arousal twitched behind the towel. 

Bill watched as Holden's other hand disappeared under the fluffy material about his legs. Somehow the suggestion of him masturbating; the front of the towel jutting forward under the hand movements beneath, seemed filthier than if he were completely exposed. 

With so much visual information, he couldn't decide where best to look. He settled on watching his length disappear into Holden's mouth, saliva dribbling down his chin, eyes shiny at the edges from the strain of taking in a fat cock to the hilt. It had been a long time since he had been offered a view like that. A long time since he had felt desired at all. And here it was, all at once.

Holden released Bill from his mouth, a string of spit following him. He used it, smothering it back down and began pulling Bill's cock in tandem with his own. The increased speed tore a gruff string of expletives from the older man. He smiled at the thrill of managing to coax them out of him.

Knowing they were both close, he wondered. What could he get away with? Was it worth the risk?  
As Bill started clutching at the sheets, Holden took his hand from between his own legs and dipped it into the crease of Bill's clenched buttocks, middle finger slick enough to pass through to rub the puckered hole he was searching for. And, well, that was it. 

Bill swore as he came...and kept coming, spurts of it continuing to pulse out of him. As he worked him through his climax, Holden couldn't help but wonder how long it had been since Bill had last allowed himself a bit of relief; it must have been weeks. The thought aroused him further. As soon as the squirts weakened, his hand was on his own cock, jerking furiously until he couldn't hold on any longer. With a shudder and a shameless groan, Holden came, deliberately and somewhat perversely, aiming his release at Bill's spent dick. 

They both looked at each other, panting, for the next minute. It was Bill who spoke first. 

“You pushed your luck, near the end there.”

Holden smiled, imagining the shock that Bill must have gone through when he touched his hole. “I know.”

Bill reached for his cigarettes. “Think I might be getting too old for surprises.”

“I'll keep it in mind for the future.”

“Uh-huh.” Bill nodded slowly in agreement.

It was only when Holden made his way to the bathroom, that Bill considered the implications of his gesture.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is the first fanfiction I've ever posted. Partly because writing isn't really my forte, partly because it's difficult to keep my Britishisms out of my writing (what on earth do Americans use as a substitute for the word "cheeky"?!) and partly because I was too ashamed to ask for a proof reader. That aside, I just fell in love with this pairing and realised that there wasn't much content and decided to "write the smut, you want to see in the world". Heh heh.
> 
> I love how delightfully honest Holden is, it must be exasperating for Bill. Who I love. To bits. All da bits. He ticks all my boxes.


End file.
